


Back Me Up (or We'll Both Fall)

by TheFisherKitty



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, Drug-Induced Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:11:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFisherKitty/pseuds/TheFisherKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an unsanctioned undercover op takes a turn, Neal and Peter's partnership takes a turn with it. Can Peter and Neal handle the fallout?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Me Up (or We'll Both Fall)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm resurrecting old fic that was previously posted only on my LJ account, which frankly, I never really use anymore. Shame most of this stuff has never seen the light of day until now. This was written a long time ago.
> 
> I own nothing, which is good because I'm not exactly nice to Peter and Neal sometimes, even though I love them.

“Tell me again why you were running an unsanctioned op with no backup,” Hughes demanded.

Agent Peter Burke sat uncomfortably in his boss’s office, wondering whether he would still have a job at the end of the day. Actually, that was a small concern given that he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t be in jail and would still have a wife at the end of the day, either.

“Neal took it upon himself to conduct some after-hours recon at the nightclub some of our fraud victims mentioned. He found out something was going down and he claimed it was our one opportunity to get inside of the investment racket, that we didn’t have time to wait,” Peter replied. “It would have taken too long to set up an op and I chose to trust his instincts.”

“And Caffrey erred?”

“No sir; the error was mine. I thought we could handle it, that we’d make an initial contact and then be able to set up a properly conducted sting operation down the line once we were in. Neal was right, it was the perfect opportunity. What he didn’t know is what we’d be asked to invest in.”

“Back up a minute, Peter. How, exactly, did you infiltrate the investment scam?”

“Neal put out feelers, claiming he had heard the club was looking for investors and that he was interested. He called me to come play the role of his partner.”

“His investment partner?” Hughes asked.

Peter sighed. “Not exactly.”

88888

_“Peter, you’ve got to get down here. I think it’s time to make our move.”_

_“‘Make our move’? We’re not running a con, Neal,” Peter grumbled. He’d been about to go to bed when Neal had called him._

_“You know what I mean! This is our chance to get inside this thing. I don’t think we’ll get a better opportunity.”_

_“There isn’t time, Neal. No time to get clearance, arrange for backup…”_

_“Peter, do you trust me?”_

_Peter heaved a sigh. That was a complicated question. Did he trust Neal? He didn’t, not fully, when it came to precious works of art or a tempting con, but he trusted that Neal knew what he was doing, and when it came down to his own personal safety, he knew Neal would never knowingly put him in danger… he hoped._

_“Yeah, I trust you.”_

_“Good. Then get down here. And wear something sexy. You know, something…not you.”_

_Peter arrived at the club twenty minutes later in a tightly fitted black t-shirt and a good-looking pair of slacks. He knew the neighborhood and knew he wouldn’t stand out; he supposed his attire could also count as ‘sexy’, though it wasn’t always clear what Neal’s expectations were when it came to his attire. He had no idea how Neal planned to get them into the investment scam, but he trusted that Neal would have a plan. Well, he_ mostly _trusted that Neal would have a plan. Sometimes Neal winged it, and even if he did have a plan, it wasn’t guaranteed to be a plan that Peter would like. Neal’s closing statement didn’t exactly bode well._

_He entered the club, spotting Neal at the bar almost immediately. It was not lost on Peter that the clientele of the club were mainly men, young and attractive men at that, but Neal stood out even in that crowd, and he flashed Peter his usual five-hundred-watt grin as he caught sight of him. Peter smiled back almost by reflex. Neal stood to meet him, grasping his hand in an affectionate way that surprised Peter as the younger man leaned in and murmured in Peter’s ear._

_“We’re a couple. I’m going to kiss you. Sell it.”_

_Before Peter could protest, Neal’s lips were sealed over his and Neal’s body was pressed against his own. His mind was scattered in confusion and other, more nebulous feelings that he didn’t want to analyze at the moment. After only the briefest hesitation in which he struggled against the embarrassed urge to balk, he leaned into the kiss and let Neal put on a show for whoever it was that was watching._

_Neal, as it turned out, was a very good kisser. No surprises there. Peter let his hand crawl up the small of Neal’s back, pulling the younger man against him. If Neal wanted him to sell it… yeah, he could do that. Peter forced himself to remember that it was just business, no different to Neal than any other con except that the goal was to bring the bad guys to justice when all was said and done._

_When Neal finally pulled back, some small voice in the back of Peter’s mind whimpered in disappointment. Neal’s eyes flicked over Peter’s face, and a faint yet genuine smile graced his features. This was Neal genuinely surprised, and pleasantly so, the face he made when Peter surpassed his expectations._

_“Nice,” Neal breathed softly, and Peter couldn’t help but notice that Neal was slightly breathless._

_“Don’t you have someone to introduce me to?” Peter smirked._

88888

The interview room was small, deliberately claustrophobic in Neal’s estimation, and reminded him uncomfortably of his previous arrest.

“Let me get this straight, Caffrey: you called Agent Burke down to a gay bar and had him pose as your _boyfriend?_ ” Agent Jones asked Neal, wrinkling his nose.

“It was the easiest way to establish a cover for both of us. I was in, I needed to get Peter in, and we were in a gay bar. You do the math.”

“Yeah, I get that. I just can’t believe he went for it.”

“Do I have to ask for Diana to do this interview?” Neal asked, widening his eyes incredulously to mask how irritated he was becoming. “Peter trusts me.”

“Do you think you deserved that trust last night?” Jones pressed.

Neal froze, the events of the night before playing through his mind.

“No,” he answered finally. “I underestimated the situation, we got in over our heads, and it was my fault.”

“How did you underestimate the situation?”

“I didn’t realize that we were going to be investing in a drug-trafficking enterprise.”

88888

_Neal and Peter were ushered down a narrow hallway at the back of the club that led them to the manager’s suite. Neal could feel the subtle tension that radiated from Peter’s frame, but only because he was well attuned to Peter’s emotional state and in much closer proximity than the bouncer who led them to the back room. They’d spent the past hour in a state of what could have been described as uncomfortable closeness had it actually been uncomfortable; somehow, it hadn’t been, and Peter had warmed to the role he was acting surprisingly quickly._

_Perhaps Neal was rubbing off on him, a thought that immediately went off in a direction that might have made Neal blush were it not for the fact that he was better at controlling his emotional responses than that. Still, the evening of close contact with Peter had lead him to wonder what it would feel like to be even closer. If not for the job, if not for their history, if not for Peter’s wife… if not for a million things. Neal almost frowned at that, and a slight shift of Peter’s eyebrow told him that his partner had caught the subtle shift of his expression. Maybe Neal wasn’t as good at hiding what he felt as he thought he was._

_Then again, that was just Peter, that inscrutable ability to know him. Not for the first time, Neal wondered exactly how much Peter knew._

_The back room was small, not the sort of setting that would give them the advantage if they had to move suddenly. The bouncer blocked the door once they were through; there would be no going back that way, and Neal couldn’t see any other way out. The contact he’d already made, the manager, a good looking man named Enrique, cast an assessing glance over both of them before gesturing them to sit on the leather sofa that sat against the wall. A third mysterious man hovered in the background, eyeing them malevolently._

_“I understand you want to make an investment in our… new enterprise. First, though, I have to make sure you’re not cops, and I presume you’ll want a preview of the merchandise.”_

_Peter’s brow furrowed marginally, lost on all but Neal who gave the slightest shake of his head to indicate he had no idea what they’d gotten into either. Peter took his lead, turning his attention to the man sitting across from him._

_“Yeah, we’ll have to know what we’re going to be investing in.”_

88888

“And that’s when you first saw the drugs?” Hughes asked.

“Yes,” Peter replied.

“And Caffrey had no idea that was going to happen?” Hughes’ voice was doubtful.

“Neal wouldn’t knowingly put either of us in that situation,” Peter said

“What happened next?”

“We were offered a sample.”

Hughes swore. “Christ, Peter. This is why we have protocol. Do you realize you’ve endangered your career?”

“I know that,” Peter said, swallowing roughly. “But it was either that or our lives.”

88888

_The club owner cast a meaningful glance at the unnamed man who had yet to say anything. The man opened his jacket to reveal the butt of a gun in a holster. Hired muscle of a scarier kind than the bouncer, then. Neal’s eyes urged Peter to follow through. How could Neal get him into this? He was a federal agent, and not even one assigned to drug enforcement, and here he was being asked to snort a line of god knew what in the back room of a nightclub. Neal’s exterior was calm, collected, but the urgency of the situation was not lost on Peter. Still, he hesitated; some things could be justified in the line of work, but where was the line here?_

_“Jesus, don’t be such a prude,” Neal scoffed at him, rolling his eyes dramatically as he shifted forward toward the drugs. “If you’re not going to do it, I will.”_

_Before Peter could stop him, Neal had already bent over the low table and snorted his portion of the drugs. Peter knew drugs weren’t a part of Neal’s regular habits, but clearly they weren’t completely unfamiliar territory either. Peter knew Neal wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t expect him to do this, unless there was no other option. Forcing himself to look irritated rather than nervous, Peter leaned forward himself, doing his best to imitate Neal’s actions._

_The sensation of the drugs in his nose was an unpleasant one. Peter shook his head and fought the urge to cough, sneeze, anything to get the offensive material out of his sinuses. As the drugs hit his system, Peter felt his heart rate spike and struggled to look calm. He had to look like this wasn’t his first time; their lives were on the line. He grinned widely as he noticed the man across the table relax, and, more importantly, the man with the gun._

_“Good shit, right? You in?”_

_Peter nodded._

_“That’s great,” Neal chimed in. “We can have the capital liquidated in two days, right?”_

_“That sounds about right,” Peter replied._

_“I will look forward to continuing our business,” the manager said._

_“Now that we’ve all sorted this out, do you mind if we leave?”  Neal said, his eyes gleaming as they trailed over Peter, his hand snaking over Peter’s thigh. “I think we have some… other business to take care of.”_

_The club manager snorted a laugh and gestured in the general direction of the door._

88888

“So you left the club. Then what?” Jones continued to question Neal.

“Nothing that had any bearing on the case,” Neal evaded.

“Where did you go from there?”

“The club was within my tracking anklet’s radius,” Neal said defensively. “We walked back to my apartment.”

“What did you do when you got there?”

Neal heaved a sigh and set his jaw.

“Answer the question, Caffrey.”

“Nothing that pertained to the case,” he repeated firmly.

88888

_“Jesus, Neal, we just snorted coke in the back of a sleazy nightclub,” Peter said, running a hand through his hair in distress._

_“Peter, relax,” Neal murmured, trying to collect himself enough to think of what to do next. “We’ll figure this out.”_

_“What’s to figure out? I’ll be fired and arrested, El will leave me, you’ll go back to jail…”_

_“That stuff’s not going to happen,” Neal reassured him. “Wait, you care if I go back to jail?”_

_“You know I do, Neal. Now isn’t the time,” Peter grumbled. “God, are the drugs supposed to make me feel this way?”_

_“What do you feel?” Neal asked in concern._

_“My heart’s racing, I’m sweating like a pig, and…” Peter’s voice fell to a low mumble._

_“And what?” Neal asked, checking Peter’s pulse. “It’s a little high, but not too much…”_

_Peter reached for the hand that rested against his neck, gripping it in his own. His eyes were widened in surprise at his own actions, his breathing ragged, and the next thing Neal knew, Peter’s lips were pressed to his own. The drug-heightened arousal that Neal had been struggling to suppress roared to the surface and his hands were roaming deftly over Peter’s firm physique, not as sculpted as his own but the contact felt electric nonetheless. Peter’s tongue was in his mouth and his hands were under the tight black shirt Peter wore, the garment riding up, and they broke the kiss for the second it took Neal to pull the shirt off over Peter’s head._

_A low moan rose in Neal’s throat as his eyes took in Peter’s chest, smoothing his fingers down the scattering of body hair that thinned to a trail down Peter’s abdomen and thickened again at the waistband of his pants. Neal sank to his knees as he worked Peter’s belt buckle loose. A moment later, Peter’s pants were around his ankles as Neal worked his boxers down over the agent’s straining erection._

_Neal lapped at Peter’s flesh, gently at first, then taking Peter’s member into his mouth. He felt Peter’s body shudder under his steadying hands, felt Peter’s hands tangle in his hair as he took him deep. Peter let out a low, shaking groan, hips bucking under Neal’s hands, his back still pressed to the closed door of Neal’s apartment._

_Peter was vaguely, distantly embarrassed as he realized Neal had him on the edge of orgasm already, scarcely five minutes into a blowjob, though it had to be the most amazing one he’d ever received. With another shuddering gasp, his grip in Neal’s chestnut hair tightened and he came, his release flooding Neal’s mouth as the younger man swallowed it all._

_As Peter slumped against the door, the last spasms of his climax shuddering through him, Neal stood pressing himself firmly against Peter’s body. The younger man’s erection pressed insistently against Peter’s thigh through the strained material of his trousers. Neal kissed Peter urgently, and Peter realized he could taste himself on Neal’s tongue, a realization that had him moaning into the other man’s mouth._

_Peter allowed Neal to walk him to the bedroom, his fingers clumsily working the buttons on Neal’s vest, then his shirt. By the time they reached the bed, Neal was stripped down to his boxers, silk and considerably nicer than Peter’s which had been left at the entry. As Neal slid the waistband over his member, Peter felt his mouth go dry._

_“Neal,” he said quietly, “I’ve… um…”_

_“What, Peter?” Neal joined Peter on the bed and whispered breathily into his ear, his hand reaching down to stroke Peter’s reawakening cock._

_“Nh… Neal,” Peter groaned, struggling to gain control of his senses and his body. “I’ve never… you know… been with another man.”_

_“Oh,” Neal replied, his eyes widening and his mouth forming an ‘O’, the face of Neal Caffrey surprised-but-not-really. “Don’t worry, Peter, I’ll do all the work.”_

_Neal reached into a drawer on his nightstand and withdrew a tube of lubricant. Peter closed his eyes in trepidation at the prospect that Neal was possibly about to fuck him. It wasn’t something he was really prepared for; oh, yes, from time to time he’d dared to imagine what it might be like to fuck Neal, but not the other way round. Neal had other ideas, though, and Peter groaned at the sensation of lube being slicked over his cock. He nearly whimpered as the hand was withdrawn, disappointed until he opened his eyes to the sight of Neal fingering himself, eyes closed and lips parted to release a sigh of ecstasy as he prepared himself for Peter. It was certainly all the preparation Peter needed._

_A moment later, Neal withdrew his fingers and straddled Peter’s hips, taking him in hand and guiding him to his opening. It all became a blur as Neal’s deliciously tight warmth enveloped him, the rocking motions of the younger man’s hips sending jolts of pleasure like electricity through both of them. Peter gripped Neal’s hips and thrust into him, unable to tear his gaze from the sweat-slicked musculature of Neal’s statuesque form. Neal’s hands roamed over Peter’s chest as he shifted his body against the angle of Peter’s thrusts, driving him harder over that one special spot and drawing a ragged cry from Neal’s throat._

_Not much longer after, they plunged over the edge, collapsing in a mass of trembling limbs and heavy breathing. The high was wearing off, swinging wide of normal to an opposite, exhausted low and stealing them both away to the realm of unconsciousness, but before Peter drifted off, he felt Neal bury his face against his neck, murmuring soft words Peter couldn’t quite hear. And in the back of his mind, haunting him like a ghost, was the guilty knowledge that he had a wife at home who didn’t know where he was._

88888

“You’re sure nothing happened at Caffrey’s apartment?” Hughes asked, an eyebrow arched in skepticism to match his voice; undoubtedly, he sensed the lie in Peter’s denial.

“What would happen? I didn’t want to face El while I was loaded, and I had already told her it might be all night, so I just stayed,” Peter bluffed. Hughes fixed him with another penetrating stare, then shrugged, apparently satisfied with his answer. After a moment, his boss spoke again.

“Damn it, Peter. What am I supposed to do with this? You broke protocol. You used drugs, and you could have gotten yourself and Caffrey killed by going into that situation without backup. I _should_ kick this up the ladder to OPR and suspend you pending the outcome of their investigation.”

“Do I sense a ‘but’ coming?”

“Shut your mouth. I don’t want to hear any of that cheeky Caffrey bullshit from you,” Hughes snapped. “You and Caffrey managed to infiltrate a drug ring at the ground floor. We have a chance to break up the operation before any product ever reaches the street, and the two of you are known to the players. We have no choice but to use you. _But…_ ” Hughes punctuated his statement with a pointed finger, “if I catch so much as a whiff of impropriety out of you and Caffrey again, I’ll make sure you’re the ones the stink sticks to. Am I understood? Are you capable of working with Caffrey without getting into trouble?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter answered crisply, hiding the doubts he felt. Could he work with Neal after what had happened? He would have to find out; he recognized the opportunity to redeem himself in the eyes of his boss and the Bureau when it was offered.

“Good. Now go home, and make sure you take Caffrey back to his apartment on the way. I’ll compare your interviews and if everything adds up, you’ll come back to work tomorrow morning.”

Peter left the office, fighting an urge to pray for Neal to have answered everything the same way he had. He particularly hoped that Neal had lied about their… tryst, for want of a better word. Peter felt bile rise in his throat at the memory, not because it was disgusting; it most certainly hadn’t been, had in fact been the most incredible night of Peter’s life, but because of guilt over what he had done to Elizabeth, the innocent victim in all of this, the woman he had sworn and failed to honor.

Neal emerged from an interview room looking shaken, though any other observer probably wouldn’t be able to tell, and joined Peter by the elevators at Jones’ direction. They made their way to Peter’s car in silence, and neither spoke until Peter had pulled up in front of the mansion where Neal’s apartment was located.

“Peter, I think we should talk,” Neal said finally, “about last night.”

“Did you tell Jones?” Peter asked, his tone flat as though he was questioning a witness… or a suspect.

“No,” Neal said, his voice quiet.

“Neal…” Peter heaved a sigh, refusing to meet Neal’s eyes. “There aren’t words for how much I regret what happened last night.”

Neal looked as though he’d been punched. He took a moment, struggling to compose himself, before finally gasping out two words that Peter barely heard as Neal bolted from the car. But Peter did hear them, and they echoed in his mind, connecting with the memory of Neal’s unintelligible murmur against his neck the night before, and Peter realized the two words were the same as the ones Neal had spoken then.

_“I’m sorry.”_


End file.
